Our family has 20 members. And before you think something else, let me clear up that out of these, just 3 are homosapiens (mama calls me a donkey, but still....), the rest are an assortment of different creatures. They are not just dumb animals, but if you spend time with them as I have, you'll learn they are far more than that.
The oldest in our family has to be the tortoise. Its been about since 7 years or so. Even now as I am writing about her (she's a female) she is busy rubbing her head against me. She is more of the gimme-my-food-and-get-lost type. The story of how she came to live with us is a little...well...read for yourself. Since I was a kid, I had always begged for a dog. So one fine day Papa brought home a box and told me "Here's what you wanted". Over-excited and anticipating a puppy, I opened the box, but inside there was something that looked like a soldier's helmet with feet and a silly looking smiling snake-head sticking out from underneath. "A tortoise?" I shrieked,"I wanted a pup". Papa replied "what's the difference? It has 4 legs, 2 eyes, a nose too". I answered "this is a REPTILE, puppies are mammals, being a zoologist, how could you even think that?" Mama and the tortoise made a female-bonding with each other and so she stayed. Ma is her favorite, so its hardly surprising she is the only person in the family Toto doesn't pee on. Yeah, she does that a lot on me, she sneaks on me from behind and before I realize, my skirt is all wet. Often I think she has a vendetta against me, maybe for not giving her puppy status all those years back. But still, i miss her during her long hibernations but she makes up for it when she wakes up---she is too hyperactive. I am sure this one would have won any race without the rabbit dozing off. I do not know how much intelligence god has bestowed upon these reps but it sure is more than we think. She rushes in to the kitchen and claws at the fridge when she is hungry, she'll rush to the nearest door when it rains and sit there staring out quietly, even when three of us are together-its always ma she snuggles up with. They say torts can live up to 300 years which means, judging by her size, there might be a good chance that she's older than papa and she'll live out the three of us.
The next to come in were two parrots. Never really liked them because first I don't like the idea of caged birds and second they were noisy aggressive fighters. I wasn't surprised when 3 days later they successfully murdered each other. On the day we had decided to set them free.
The next after them were two rabbits, who were baptized Digi(tal) and Ana(log) with respect to my two favorite subjects. They were the cutest pets I had. If Toto favored mama, these two favored me. At night they could climb on to my lap and fall asleep or they would sneak into ma-pa's room and doze just below the a/c. Spoilt brats they were--they had to sit on the couch,they hated bathing and I remember they used to spit the water right at my face. Yuck. And they nibbled at anything and everything...they were finally caged after we had to get a new keyboard, slippers, mouse scanner and modem cords. Since they ate a lot, well--they acted like two shit generating machines too, until ma got frustrated and tied little nappies around them. What a damn funny scene that was!! But one day, they died. I wont elucidate on how, but it was a bad heat-stroke. As I mentioned, animals have far more understanding than we think them to be capable of. Our usually playful G sat gloomy and refused food until the next day. And so did I. I really hope there is a heaven for rabbits with all the things they would want to nibble and an a/c and a lap to sleep in. Also the baby rabbits, that Ana was pregnant with....
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
ODE TO BOND---
Preface: This was written on 07/10/08 in the elec community, orkut. And this isnt about James Bond, but his alter-ego in our coll, our nemesis...now you know I guess ;). Till now only my elec friends were aware of it, but I'm sharing it with everyone today. Also, I suggest that you do not read it until you know our Mr. Bond well enough.......
With his MOONRAKER subject
He is the perfect DR. NO,
Who always wants mo'
Coz for him,
Even THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH
(Atleast the college isnt)
Oh! He has such a proud puff,
For he has a godfather-
FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE,
(U know what I mean,
Too far obvious it has been!)
His labs a THUNDERBALL
Where those merciless questions fall,
No answer, or one with no sense,
And you get a death sentence..
YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE
When its not his class & when you dont cheat,
Else you are like dead mice...
Seems to be on HER MEJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE,
N carries forth The majesty's (read BPUT)
Own anti-student warfare...
His questions paper exclusively
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY,
With A VIEW TO KILL....
His proximity can scare
THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS out of anyone
Even of those for whom fear is rare,
For he possesses A LICENCE TO KILL,
So runs the gossip-mill
He has a GOLDENEYE,
That spots all who cheat,
No what, No why,
Just a straight DC--ah! So neat,
So hail THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN
(Fool! Its a pun
for the DC,
Cant you see??)
For him, TOMORROW NEVER DIES,
A new prospect of torture every new day,
Coz his motto is LIVE AND LET DIE,
But in vain!!
For our motto is,
NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN!!
So as they say,
DIE ANOTHER DAY...
And so with him around,
Forget all about A QUANTUM OF SOLACE
With as much hair as CRAIG,
Age of CONNERY,
Pretensions like that of BROSNAN,
(But a flop like NIVEN)
Dont ask where and when,
But all girls JINX him,
And when he woos,
(A girl obviously, no matter whose)
The results are more dangerous than-
Even a peg of methylated booze,
For instance,
Even stupid MIRANDA FROST him,
So he still has to search,
A TRACY BOND,
Who'll marry him; atleast before-
Drowning him in a pond....
Till then GOODNIGHT,
Until MAYDAY!!
P.S.-
4 dose who r little less bondy than me, the last para has the names of bond actors n bond girls, while d rest b4 it are bond movies released till date
With his MOONRAKER subject
He is the perfect DR. NO,
Who always wants mo'
Coz for him,
Even THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH
(Atleast the college isnt)
Oh! He has such a proud puff,
For he has a godfather-
FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE,
(U know what I mean,
Too far obvious it has been!)
His labs a THUNDERBALL
Where those merciless questions fall,
No answer, or one with no sense,
And you get a death sentence..
YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE
When its not his class & when you dont cheat,
Else you are like dead mice...
Seems to be on HER MEJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE,
N carries forth The majesty's (read BPUT)
Own anti-student warfare...
His questions paper exclusively
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY,
With A VIEW TO KILL....
His proximity can scare
THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS out of anyone
Even of those for whom fear is rare,
For he possesses A LICENCE TO KILL,
So runs the gossip-mill
He has a GOLDENEYE,
That spots all who cheat,
No what, No why,
Just a straight DC--ah! So neat,
So hail THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN
(Fool! Its a pun
for the DC,
Cant you see??)
For him, TOMORROW NEVER DIES,
A new prospect of torture every new day,
Coz his motto is LIVE AND LET DIE,
But in vain!!
For our motto is,
NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN!!
So as they say,
DIE ANOTHER DAY...
And so with him around,
Forget all about A QUANTUM OF SOLACE
With as much hair as CRAIG,
Age of CONNERY,
Pretensions like that of BROSNAN,
(But a flop like NIVEN)
Dont ask where and when,
But all girls JINX him,
And when he woos,
(A girl obviously, no matter whose)
The results are more dangerous than-
Even a peg of methylated booze,
For instance,
Even stupid MIRANDA FROST him,
So he still has to search,
A TRACY BOND,
Who'll marry him; atleast before-
Drowning him in a pond....
Till then GOODNIGHT,
Until MAYDAY!!
P.S.-
4 dose who r little less bondy than me, the last para has the names of bond actors n bond girls, while d rest b4 it are bond movies released till date
Waka Waka Woof Woof---Just another day at work...for everyone!!
(T)
Football is pretty addictive.It didn't spare us either.This morning, again, Papa, me and our pet dog, G had a nice round of football (albeit with a tennis-ball, but yeah-whatever!). Well, honestly, what papa and I was playing seemed more like it, but G had his own signature style that he desperately demonstrated. Prob was, we normal bipeds did not quite warm up to the idea of transforming into quadrupeds, then run about crazy with the ball in our mouths, Zidane-ing everyone else.
The part of the town I live in is peaceful and pretty much the same, since- at least since papa was a kid. There are no malls, supermarkets; even if there would have been , I'm sure few would have given a hoot about it. People would have stuck to the little crammed homely shops. I went out yesterday. Papa was purchasing some stuff and I was perched on his bike, watching people cross the thin lane.
The shop opposite was one of those shops that make you wonder how they even, so as to say-"make their ends meet". This one was small, just enough for one person to sit in. It was of blue wood with a pay-phone hanging in front, jars with cheap cookies and insignificant this and that I was sure no-one would ever waste money on. The shop owner, say Mr. X had a nice calm poise, his eyes were closed and was totally engrossed as he sang along with a melodious oriya song on his radio. I couldn't catch the lyrics but I thought then it sounded a lot like an oriya version of Rabindra Sangeet. As before, i started wondering how he even afforded his dinner. At that moment, I got my answer. his eyes still shut, his body swaying with the music, his tawny thin hand reached up to one of his jars and I watched in mild surprise as he nibbled down his own cookies.
Back home, mama tsked at the incident "what loss to have to eat what you intend to sell".
Either that or he eats a couple of cookies then goes home and says to his wife "I am not hungry" and so saves on a meal. Thinking about that kind peaceful brown old face, I know which it would be
Football is pretty addictive.It didn't spare us either.This morning, again, Papa, me and our pet dog, G had a nice round of football (albeit with a tennis-ball, but yeah-whatever!). Well, honestly, what papa and I was playing seemed more like it, but G had his own signature style that he desperately demonstrated. Prob was, we normal bipeds did not quite warm up to the idea of transforming into quadrupeds, then run about crazy with the ball in our mouths, Zidane-ing everyone else.
The part of the town I live in is peaceful and pretty much the same, since- at least since papa was a kid. There are no malls, supermarkets; even if there would have been , I'm sure few would have given a hoot about it. People would have stuck to the little crammed homely shops. I went out yesterday. Papa was purchasing some stuff and I was perched on his bike, watching people cross the thin lane.
The shop opposite was one of those shops that make you wonder how they even, so as to say-"make their ends meet". This one was small, just enough for one person to sit in. It was of blue wood with a pay-phone hanging in front, jars with cheap cookies and insignificant this and that I was sure no-one would ever waste money on. The shop owner, say Mr. X had a nice calm poise, his eyes were closed and was totally engrossed as he sang along with a melodious oriya song on his radio. I couldn't catch the lyrics but I thought then it sounded a lot like an oriya version of Rabindra Sangeet. As before, i started wondering how he even afforded his dinner. At that moment, I got my answer. his eyes still shut, his body swaying with the music, his tawny thin hand reached up to one of his jars and I watched in mild surprise as he nibbled down his own cookies.
Back home, mama tsked at the incident "what loss to have to eat what you intend to sell".
Either that or he eats a couple of cookies then goes home and says to his wife "I am not hungry" and so saves on a meal. Thinking about that kind peaceful brown old face, I know which it would be
Thursday, June 17, 2010
You are an earhole--part 2
The part one of this true story got a nice comment from a reader, who thought about my (apparent) deafness and as he said, was so touched that he swore to keep away from his headphones. That's when I contemplated not writing the 2nd part. If it would help some-one, why not? But sorry M,had to,2 reasons: first,people might start sympathizing with me and second, turn themselves sore by shouting at me when they wanted to make conversation (and so might actually turn me deaf)
So what happened next was quite obvious.The headphones were blamed mercilessly and were shelved. I went to this nice pretty ear-doc (I say that because I never came about to learning the spelling of that term). She examined my ear and gave her verdict: something I realized was embarrassing enough to make it to the 2nd position of the world's-most-disgusting-disorders (according to me)--ear wax clog. Ewww!! Mama said she would disown me if she could (she was joking of course). What the hell- I would disown my ears if I could (and I'm NOT joking, of course!). They were the instrument of my public embarrassment, its still a joke in the family! Anyways had it cleaned of all the ear-poop and so got back my normal auditory receptions.
Back home, as I wiped the dust off my player and plugged back the headphones, I said casually to papa, with a smug smile: "Anyhow you see this and that as related?".
"Sure", he said, "It was a self-protection mechanism of your ears to block out the terrible music you listen to and call rock".
Yes, you cant win an argument with parents. But since this story is over, I wonder why I chose this obviously-disgusting topic to write about (I asked A how was it, pat comes the reply : "yuck" :( ). But who cares? This is my blog n I'm a 4th year ;). Tc till next
So what happened next was quite obvious.The headphones were blamed mercilessly and were shelved. I went to this nice pretty ear-doc (I say that because I never came about to learning the spelling of that term). She examined my ear and gave her verdict: something I realized was embarrassing enough to make it to the 2nd position of the world's-most-disgusting-disorders (according to me)--ear wax clog. Ewww!! Mama said she would disown me if she could (she was joking of course). What the hell- I would disown my ears if I could (and I'm NOT joking, of course!). They were the instrument of my public embarrassment, its still a joke in the family! Anyways had it cleaned of all the ear-poop and so got back my normal auditory receptions.
Back home, as I wiped the dust off my player and plugged back the headphones, I said casually to papa, with a smug smile: "Anyhow you see this and that as related?".
"Sure", he said, "It was a self-protection mechanism of your ears to block out the terrible music you listen to and call rock".
Yes, you cant win an argument with parents. But since this story is over, I wonder why I chose this obviously-disgusting topic to write about (I asked A how was it, pat comes the reply : "yuck" :( ). But who cares? This is my blog n I'm a 4th year ;). Tc till next
You are an earhole--part 1
Wow,technology...what next? Everything's moving so fast...even those little round sound-boxes....the headphones...
My first encounter with them was when papa got his radio.Then my phone had them, the same small round flat porous button like things with stalks at the other end. It progressed to my mp3 player's newly and strangely styled bullet-shape- half hard-plastic, the other half some soft-rubber that went into my ear....so deep as if they were made to bypass the ear-canal and inject the music directly into my eardrums. I squirmed at first but eventually got used to them.
I thought they would be cool but turned out embarrassing instead. They scooped out so much ear-wax that mama wouldnt let me touch my mp3 again until I had cleaned my ear and the earphones as well. That was when I reached a conclusion: ears were as disgusting as a certain other hole...they secreted icky brown stuff too and well...nah! No more..I wouldnt want to keep off girls. but anyway, since I have pointed this out maybe it will catch on; and after my vacs at my next fight with P, she might swear at me : "Mar ja, ear-hole"
Back to the story. So one day, somehow, my right ear stopped working. All blank. When someone on my right side spoke, I had to get up, turn 180 degrees and had to beg to repeat. the deafness earned me a nice scolding from papa and mama at a decibel enough to deafen the other one. I contemplated this as a tempting option....maybe my parents would feel sorry for the scolding, maybe I would finally be able to skip that boring friend's chatter, maybe I would then not get scolded in class for not paying attention, maybe...maybe...so many nice maybes....then it striked...maybe my best friend would say bad about me in front of me and I wouldn't be able to know, maybe Enrique would release his next album that would top the charts and I wouldn't have a clue.....noooooo....that was when I started crying. U don't realize the importance of something until you lose it. I had lost my hearing capability and now I knew what my ear meant to me. Shit
My first encounter with them was when papa got his radio.Then my phone had them, the same small round flat porous button like things with stalks at the other end. It progressed to my mp3 player's newly and strangely styled bullet-shape- half hard-plastic, the other half some soft-rubber that went into my ear....so deep as if they were made to bypass the ear-canal and inject the music directly into my eardrums. I squirmed at first but eventually got used to them.
I thought they would be cool but turned out embarrassing instead. They scooped out so much ear-wax that mama wouldnt let me touch my mp3 again until I had cleaned my ear and the earphones as well. That was when I reached a conclusion: ears were as disgusting as a certain other hole...they secreted icky brown stuff too and well...nah! No more..I wouldnt want to keep off girls. but anyway, since I have pointed this out maybe it will catch on; and after my vacs at my next fight with P, she might swear at me : "Mar ja, ear-hole"
Back to the story. So one day, somehow, my right ear stopped working. All blank. When someone on my right side spoke, I had to get up, turn 180 degrees and had to beg to repeat. the deafness earned me a nice scolding from papa and mama at a decibel enough to deafen the other one. I contemplated this as a tempting option....maybe my parents would feel sorry for the scolding, maybe I would finally be able to skip that boring friend's chatter, maybe I would then not get scolded in class for not paying attention, maybe...maybe...so many nice maybes....then it striked...maybe my best friend would say bad about me in front of me and I wouldn't be able to know, maybe Enrique would release his next album that would top the charts and I wouldn't have a clue.....noooooo....that was when I started crying. U don't realize the importance of something until you lose it. I had lost my hearing capability and now I knew what my ear meant to me. Shit
Hello
Well,first things first....why am I blogging, people would ask.If not anyone,mama certainly would.Honestly,I wanted to be a writer, since long back.....I wrote a lot until I ended up in engineering and electrical screwed up my mind so much that all of the stories were in danger of ending up like love story 2050....and it became obvious there would be no Harper Collins or Penguin or whatever for me
So instead of fading into oblivion, I decided to blog- well, there would at least be a handful of poor blessed friends I could force to read my blog (:P).
What I will write here will mostly be true, until it is one of my stupid stories/poems. I'll indicate that at the beginning as true/fictional. Also, I have a simple request I'd like to stick to--"do not try to know more than I would tell you". So no questions/nagging about who or why or what, please. But comments are welcome
p.s-Real persons shall be addressed by either their initials or any combination of alphabets that I'll choose.
tc :)
So instead of fading into oblivion, I decided to blog- well, there would at least be a handful of poor blessed friends I could force to read my blog (:P).
What I will write here will mostly be true, until it is one of my stupid stories/poems. I'll indicate that at the beginning as true/fictional. Also, I have a simple request I'd like to stick to--"do not try to know more than I would tell you". So no questions/nagging about who or why or what, please. But comments are welcome
p.s-Real persons shall be addressed by either their initials or any combination of alphabets that I'll choose.
tc :)
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